Nobody in that organization actually thought they’d be staring down a fourth Play-In Tournament—or maybe they just didn’t want to admit it. Look, injuries are the go-to excuse, but that’s hiding a deeper problem. The talent level simply isn’t there to hang with the league’s top dogs, and frankly, their defensive philosophy feels ancient. They’re giving up the most open 3-pointers per game, and honestly, you can’t survive like that in the modern NBA.
It was a frustrating run, arguably the worst since the 2014-15 campaign. You’d get these little glimpses of progress, but it was all fools gold. Let’s look at the Nov. 12 loss to Cleveland. The Heat started 7-4, looking like a real threat, but then the Cavs rolled in for a miniseries. Miami was up 14 in the third quarter—I remember the smell of stale beer and popcorn in the arena that night—and then it just evaporated. The Cavaliers hit nine of 12 shots in the lane in the final frame. If Bam Adebayo wasn’t sidelined with that foot injury, maybe Kel’el Ware doesn’t play those nine closing minutes, but the lack of perimeter defense was already glaring.
Then came Jan. 10 at Indiana. Getting outclassed by a team that was essentially trying to lose? That’s a special kind of low. The Pacers were riding a month-long slump, but they absolutely dismantled Miami’s small-ball experiment. The Heat tried to play fast, which is ironic, because they got beaten at their own game. Andrew Nembhard looked like an All-Star that night, dropping nine assists with zero turnovers while the Heat never held a lead. Brutal.
Actually, wait, it gets worse. Feb. 3 versus the Atlanta Hawks. The team was commemorating the 2006 championship, so naturally, the current squad gets disemboweled in front of the legends. It was a rough watch. The Hawks had already shipped off Trae Young, proving to the entire league—and specifically to Miami—that sometimes you just need to cut the negative weight to get better. By that point, the Heat were two games under .500 and, quite frankly, didn’t even look like they belonged in the same building as Atlanta.
It’s a pattern. The build is stale, the pieces don’t fit, and the results don’t lie. Or maybe they do, if you’re not paying attention to the tape. Regardless, the summer is going to be long for Pat Riley.